Paranoia
Written by: Octavian "Faceless" Costello A brisk cold night it was in mid summer’s eve where I had just finished eating dinner, I was working on a screenplay for my theatre school. My boyfriend Keith and I had recently broken up, I believe it was because of my career interests. I wanted to become a teacher at a school for mentally disabled where as Keith wanted to become a lawyer, difference was he expected me to move to Chicago with him but I was already comfortable here in Brooklyn, New York. Later on that night after watching some great roasts on the comedy network, I went ahead to continue working on my screenplay but my father had informed me I had to walk my dog before he went to pee in the house. I had placed my work to the side and grabbed my dog Matthew, as we travelled down the stairs I felt a cold breeze slide past my ears. I hurried on down the steps and opened the door breaching the outside, for some reason this night was colder than all other nights. I hadn’t figured out why but then again I’m no meteorologist, I had let Matthew walk into a small dirt yard where he’d usually do his business; but it was so cold I couldn’t even stand there to watch him properly. I had to walk inside the apartment door and watch him from the lobby window. As I was watching him I saw a van pull up, I thought nothing of it but it just stood there in front of my building for around 15 solid minutes; with each minute I grew more and more suspicious. It was odd of me but for no apparent reason I ran outside, grabbed my dog and bursted up the stairs into my apartment. Once I was fully up the stairs I was as well fully out of breath; my father starstruck asked what happened that made me burst through the door such as so I replied there was nothing I just got paranoid once again. He told me to stop giving into the roaming thoughts inside my head so I just agreed instead of having to argue again, but for the record it is harder to ignore the things in your head rather than to play it safe and run away from potential danger. I have a history of making things seem far worse than what the reality of it is. I began to walk inside my office room where I resumed to work on my screenplay for the theatre, as soon as the clock struck 2 A.M it was time for me to hit the hay. I shut the lights, computer and headed towards bed; as I walked passed I saw my bedroom curtains still open, as I reached for the black out curtains to cover up my window I had still seen the same exact van in the same exact spot. I had told myself to not to give into the madness within my mind, I had been resting while thinking of that van. I have no idea why I cannot keep that van out of my head. I had awoke the next morning to make myself tea and watch some Saturday morning cartoons, it was the time of day to walk Matthew before he wet the bed so I had taken him outside and guess who was there? The mother fucking van, this time I went towards the van to confront whomever was inside. I knocked on the glass as the man inside had rolled down the window ever so slowly, he then quickly reached out to grab me without any hesitation I struck him in the nose leaving the van untouched; I then ran towards the apartment door not realizing I left my dog behind I then turn around to see the man from the van pull my dog inside. I ran up inside of the house as I peeked behind me I saw the man start to walk after me I instantly freaked out, I FLEW up those fuckin’ stairs and jotted inside for the house gun but then suddenly; I heard footsteps from within the perimeter. I ran underneath the table inside of the dining room, as I saw the footsteps of the person upstairs I reached for the knife on top of the table and instantly stabbed them in the heel of their foot leaving them on the ground. I ran passed them and into the back room where my father had kept the house gun. I walked back inside of the dining room very subtle and cautiously where I had still seen the man on the floor; I began to shoot the man 3 times in the face to keep him lying on the ground. I had made my way halfway down the stairs where I heard more people by the entry door, I began to shoot the door until I heard the bodies drop. When I opened the door I saw more men lying on the ground this time they were all wearing masks... I travelled outside where I had seen the van. I started to bust some caps through the window killing anyone inside. Then from out of nowhere someone from behind had grabbed me and tried to restrain me, I then bashed the back of my head onto the bridge of their nose causing a massive brain hemorrhage. The guy from behind me had fallen onto the floor gargling his own blood. I stared at the corpse for a moment there right before I ran towards the back of the van to grab my dog, I was now upstairs. I waited patiently for my family to get home, I was planning on calling the authorities but I had assumed the gun shots may have warned fellow bystanders and/or neighbors from within the building. I was all warn out from the stress induced trauma I had experienced today so I went on ahead and made myself a glass of tea and took a nap. Later on that day I had heard some knocking on the door which had woken me up, as I walked up to see who it was I saw next to me my dog Matthew whom had been shot and killed... I then saw my mother lying dead on the ground covered in bullet wounds as well, the blood trails to the front door. I looked through the peephole to see 5 officers surrounding my door, I had no idea what was going on; I open the door and the had told me I was under arrest for the murder of 5 civilians. They grabbed me and locked me in cuffs as we were walking away I had seen 3 children wearing super hero masks being covered in body bags. I then saw my father’s truck outside shot repeatedly.. and then I saw my father lying dead on the ground as they shoved my head inside the back of the cop car. Now I’m talking to you inside the confinements of a prison talking through a telephone and thick glass between us, I’d always remember what my father had told me... “stop giving into the roaming thoughts inside your head.”